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‘Becker Hunt,’ he snaps. ‘Have her call me back. It’s an emergency.’ He hangs up on a grunt and looks at me with guarded eyes for a few moments. ‘How come you’re so quiet?’ His question is quite endearing.
An emergency? Am I the emergency? Honestly, right now, I want to hug him. My head could also fucking explode. I should ask him to put me in touch with his doctor, too, because I sure as shit need to see a shrink. ‘I didn’t want to interrupt you,’ I say, joining my hands in front of me.
‘Oh.’ Becker’s brows meet in the middle. ‘Well, I’m done now.’ He makes a futile attempt at composure.
‘Okay.’
‘Okay?’
‘Yes, okay,’ I reply, super-calmly.
‘That’s all you have to say?’
I stop myself from asking why he needs to speak to Dr Vass. That’s his business. Besides, he doesn’t know I know he has a therapist. ‘Do you want me to tell you how disappointed I am with you?’ I quietly praise myself for my self-control.
‘You’re disappointed with me?’ He laughs, but it’s a nervous laugh, one filled with apprehension.
‘Yes, I am. You lied to me. There should be trust if our relationship is going to work.’
One of his eyebrows hitches up a little, worry plaguing his face. ‘Relationship?’
‘Working relationship,’ I clarify, getting a thrill from seeing the discomfort that silly word causes him. ‘If you were so desperate to have me back, you should have just said so instead of resorting to using Mrs Potts and tugging on my emotions.’
‘Hey, hey, wait a moment. Desperate?’ He laughs, stepping forward gingerly, like he’s too scared to come close. ‘I don’t do desperate, princess. You’re getting a bit ahead of yourself now.’
‘Am I?’ My question is nonchalant but cocky as hell.
‘Oh my God.’ He looks to the ceiling. ‘Is there any part of you that doesn’t wind me the fuck up?’
‘Clearly not,’ I answer quickly, turning to exit. ‘Maybe it’s best if I leave.’ I have him all figured out.
‘No, Eleanor, wait.’
A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. Oh, I really do have him worked out. This business between us isn’t done. The chemistry hasn’t been snuffed out by last night’s encounter. If anything, it’s worse, so why on earth am I feeling so happy about that? I should be fearing the worst. I guess I’m finding comfort in the fact that he’s as frustrated and confused by the whole mess as I am. But I still have more to lose, even if it feels like I have the upper hand right now. In reality, I don’t.
Pulling to a slow stop, I turn, not allowing my smile to break free. It’s hard. I’m all over Becker Hunt and his supposed respect in the workplace. ‘Calm your britches, Mr Hunt,’ I say cheekily. ‘I was only going to make some tea.’
His eyes nearly pop out of his head, his mouth twisting, no doubt to hold back the filthy look he wants to fire at me. But through the horror of being nailed, I see amusement begin to surface. He’s fighting a smile. ‘You drive me fucking crackers.’
Putting on my best warning stare, I point a finger at him. ‘Don’t lie to me again.’
‘I won’t.’
‘Good.’
His smile breaks free, soft and beautiful. ‘Get to work.’
‘Straight away.’ I back towards the door, watching as Becker watches me, his smile stretching. It’s a sight to behold, a true happy smile. Then he robs me of it when he turns and wanders over to a nearby bookshelf, putting extra effort into his sexy saunter. It’s intentional. He’s testing me. This man is seriously an arrogant arsehole, and I wish I actually hated him. But I don’t. For my sins, I like him.
I come to a stop when my back meets the door, my eyes drifting down to that special place, seeing it tense and swell with his long strides. I can’t help it. I relax against the door and fall into a trance. He’s playing.
‘Stop looking at my arse,’ he says over his shoulder.
‘No.’ My refusal comes without thought, and I’m suddenly not looking at his arse any more, because he’s spun around, giving me something else to feast on. Something I’m now on first-name terms with, so to speak. Something I’ve been acquainted with, and my filthy mind is off on a tangent, wondering if I might have the pleasure again anytime soon.
‘What did you say?’
‘Pardon?’ I land on planet Earth again with a mighty thud when the shock on his face registers.
‘Just then,’ he says, walking forward a few steps. ‘What did you say?’
My hand blindly feels for the handle behind me as I search for the right answer. ‘Straight away,’ I stutter lamely, avoiding his questioning eyes. ‘I’ll get back to work straight away.’
‘No,’ he says slowly. ‘After that. When I told you to stop looking at my arse.’
